


The Captain And The Tea Boy

by whovianmuse



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovianmuse/pseuds/whovianmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Two little red and black cups of coffee stood next to one another on the wooden table, their handles barely touching. He knew the routine well enough by now. Jack took his coffee black: Simple. Rich. Pure. It was something that Ianto would never come to understand, but like everything else, he simply accepted it as it was. Ianto stood there, moving the mugs back and forth in a shaky daze, scraping the ceramic against the wood and over-thinking the simple concept of the placement of coffee mugs on a table.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captain And The Tea Boy

            Two little red and black cups of coffee stood next to one another on the wooden table, their handles barely touching. He knew the routine well enough by now. Jack took his coffee black: Simple. Rich. Pure. It was something that Ianto would never come to understand, but like everything else, he simply accepted it as it was. Ianto stood there, moving the mugs back and forth in a shaky daze, scraping the ceramic against the wood and over-thinking the simple concept of the placement of coffee mugs on a table.

            Handles. Heat. Touching. Hinting.

            Subtlety is key.

            Subtlety is unattainable.

            Ianto rolled his eyes and groaned. He was being ridiculous. _Just because the handles are touching does not mean he'll take it as an invitation for a shag._ A furious blush settled into his cheeks at the thought of it, and his hands slipped, shaking the fragile little world inside the coffee cup, its contents cascading over the sides and onto his hands. Cursing lightly, Ianto licked the coffee from his blistering fingers and grabbed a tea towel to mop up the mess.

            He couldn't help it. He'd never been in this situation before. Realistically, there had never been need nor opportunity for it, as they were constantly surrounded by their colleagues. Today, of course, had been different. Gwen had invited everyone out to a new Italian restaurant that had opened up the week before. Jack had declined, mumbling something about wanting to research the migration habits of Weevils. Tosh had contemplated staying as well, until Owen had decided to attend.

            Ianto simply hadn’t been invited. No one ever invited the Tea Boy.

            As the minutes ticked on, it became obvious that by the time Jack found his way to the kitchen, his coffee would be cold and bitter. Ianto sighed, threw the tea towel into the hamper, and carefully lifted the mugs, trying his hardest to keep his hands from shaking. One man really shouldn't be worth this much trouble. Then again, one man shouldn't have the luxury of intelligence, immortality and enthralling mystery all in one handsome container.

            Ianto slowly took the stairs to Captain Jack’s office, over-analyzing the pace of his steps, and wondering idly how someone attempting to maintain complete nonchalance and composure should sound when walking up the stairs for an unwarranted coffee delivery. Distracted, he missed a step, but the splash of searing hot coffee did not miss his trouser leg.

            Ianto bit his lip, fighting back the urge to let slip a fresh string of curses, but he held his tongue. _Composure. Must keep composure._ He forced his lips into a smile and stumbled across the threshold. Jack did not immediately look up when Ianto came in, stood in front of his desk, and placed the mug of coffee a few inches from his right hand, and so Ianto simply stood there, bouncing idly on the balls of his feet, and clutching his little red cup of confectioned coffee in his hands.

            After a few moments of disgruntled silence, he cleared his throat. He hadn't meant to do it to attract attention, and he was about to say so, to mumble something stupid, when Jack looked up at him. The Captain’s sharp, brilliant blue eyes pierced his, and the words fell from his mind with all the force of a shattered coffee mug.

            "Ianto. Hi. Sorry, I'm a bit immersed in this," Jack said with a hint of frustration. Ianto said nothing in return, the connection between his lips and his brain perfectly severed. Jack tilted his head to the side in concern, scrutinizing Ianto's face.

            "You okay?" he asked. Ianto blinked quite a few times and then shook his head.

            "Um. Hello," he said, attempting to reconnect the link in favor of a small smile.

            "Sorry, sir. I've just come to bring you coffee," he finally said, offering his own mug to Jack. The Captain’s eyes roved between the black cup on his desk and the little red cup cradled in Ianto’s outstretched hands. He chuckled softly, took a sip from his mug and closed his eyes, delighting in its taste. This was the reason that they had placed Ianto in charge of their coffees and teas: he made everything taste like perfection.

            "Thank you," Jack said, placing the cup back down on the table and resuming his research. After a few moments of embarrassed silence, Ianto turned to leave, his stomach sinking in anti-climactic defeat as he trudged toward the door. It was stupid of him to think that he might win Jack’s affections with one sad little cup of coffee on their first hour alone, but the moment Ianto heard Jack say his name, he had turned on his heel and rushed back through the door. Ianto looked up at him eagerly, forgetting the importance of not wanting to look too keen, when Jack simply said, “You know, you don’t need to call me ‘sir’.”

            Ianto nodded and mumbled an apology, but Jack interrupted him.

            "In fact,” he said, “I don't like it. It makes me uncomfortable."

            "I'm sorry, sir," Ianto began, shaking his head and then murmuring a simple, "sorry.”

            Jack pursed his lips, but chose to say nothing.

            “I should go, I suppose," Ianto decided, tilting his head toward the door.

            "Could you stay, actually? I could use your help with something.”

            Ianto’s heart leapt at the way Jack’s eyes roamed over him, his irises dilating as he took in the fine fabric of Ianto’s pinstriped suit. Without warrant, as it always did, the Captain’s devilish voice slipped into his mind: _And this is Ianto Jones. Ianto cleans up after us and gets us everywhere on time. And he looks good in a suit._ Over the past few months, Ianto had spent far more than what was entirely necessary on expensive suits and ties. Today, he wore a soft red silken number, tucked into a black jacket and a button-down shirt.

            Jack wore his usual: a blue button-down with ruffled sleeves rolled up to his elbows, unreasonably flattering trousers, and brown leather boots. His fantastic overcoat had been slung over his chair in a careless manner. Jack motioned for Ianto to come closer, and he moved carefully, inching his way across the room until he stood a good ten centimeters behind Jack's swivel chair. He placed his little red mug on the table next to Jack’s, careful not to let the handles touch.

            "Now, get a good look at this. I've measured the stream of rift activity, closely following the increase in Weevil sightings…" he began, tracing the patterns on the screen with his fingertips, occasionally placing them to his lips as he searched for the right words, driving forth his convoluted explanation, so that Ianto could understand the obvious brilliance of what he’d just uncovered. It was a pity that Ianto had stopped listening two seconds in. His eyes were set on Jack’s soft, pink lips as they moved in rhythm, the way his hands swept across his dimpled chin in contemplation.

            “And so I get the feeling that…Ianto, are you listening?” Jack asked suddenly, swiveling around to face him, his knees brushing against Ianto’s. Ianto cleared his throat, plunging his hands into the pockets of his trousers, and nodded quickly. Jack’s expression was torn between irritation and amusement as he pressed his tongue against his front teeth and studied Ianto’s awkward demeanor.

            “Have the others come back yet?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

            “Not to my knowledge,” Ianto said slowly.

            Jack’s lips twisted into a brilliant smile and he clutched the arms of his chair, propelling himself upward, until he stood mere centimeters from Ianto’s face. Ianto instinctively moved a few paces backward, but Jack caught him by the wrists and pulled Ianto into his chest. He could feel the Captain’s breath against his lips, could almost taste him.

            “Why didn’t they invite you along?” he asked, his voice calm and concerned.

            “I…I don’t know. They don’t see me as one of them, I suppose. After all, I’m just the tea boy.” Ianto forced a smile, carefully avoiding Jack’s scrutinizing stare.

            “It doesn’t matter,” he added, confused by the pained expression on Jack’s face.

            “Yes, it does. Of course it matters,” Jack said, moving impossibly closer until he was pressed right up against Ianto’s chest.

            “Because, you, _Ianto Jones_ ,” Jack breathed, letting the words spill from his lips as though they were a delicacy, “are one of the most wonderful, important men I’ve ever met.”

            Ianto tried to speak, his lips parted in preparation for a response that danced around denial and modesty, when Jack’s mouth interrupted him, curious and urgent. He wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist, drawing him closer, grasping the fabric of his jacket, as Ianto wove his fingers through Jack’s disheveled brown hair. After a few moments, Jack broke the connection with one last delicate, lingering kiss, chucking softly as he pulled away. A wicked grin spread across his face at the sight of the shock he’d just given Ianto, whose lips still clung to their last pout.

            It was over much too soon, leaving Ianto with the distinct feeling that he’d just been given a pity kiss. Ianto hesitated for a fraction of a second before thrusting Jack against the wall of his office and grinding his hips into Jack’s. If this was all he was ever going to get, he might as well make it count. The Captain responded with equal fervor, grasping a fistful of Ianto’s tie and pulling him closer, crushing his lips to Ianto’s.

            Two little red and black cups of coffee crashed to the floor as Jack shoved Ianto onto his desk, gripping the edges and trapping Ianto between his torso and the grooved mahogany. Jack moved impatiently, loosening Ianto’s tie and nearly ripping the little black buttons clean off of his shirt as he threw it mercilessly to the floor. It was all a bit dizzying, and it was happening much too quickly for Ianto’s liking. He needed to make this stolen moment between them last as long as he possibly could.

            Ianto caught Jack’s hands in his and pushed him back gently, smiling softly and brushing his fingers across Jack’s jawline. He traced the light pattern of freckles across the bridge of Jack’s nose with his lips, placing soft, little kisses along his forehead and cheekbones. Ianto closed his eyes, lingering in the comfort of Jack’s embrace, delighting in the way Jack laughed against his lips. The Captain moved for the hemline of Ianto’s trousers, teasing the sensitive skin across his hips, but Ianto grimaced and pulled away.

            “Jack, I need to…please,” Ianto begged, breathless and confused.

            “I’m sorry…do you want…should I stop?” Jack asked, disappointment lacing every word as he began backing away from Ianto, hoping he hadn’t pushed him too far.

            “No, please don’t…I just…this might be it, and I…I want to make this last…in case you only wanted me this once.”

            Jack sighed in relief, shaking his head slowly as a smile spread across his lips.

            “Ianto,” he whispered, cupping his face gently and pulling him into a delicate kiss.

            “It’d break my heart if this only happened once.”

            Ianto’s lips broke into a ridiculous grin as he gripped Jack by the collar of his button-down and pulled him into an impassioned embrace. Jack moved against him slowly, deepening the kiss, his arms winding around Ianto’s shoulders to keep him steady. After a few moments, Ianto broke away, leaving Jack flustered and confused. A devilish smirk crossed Ianto’s face, and Jack pouted as Ianto teased him in a truly deplorable manner, releasing the Captain from his trousers and ruffled blue shirt one little white button at a time.

            Jack growled into Ianto’s chest as he moved against him, leaving a trail of kisses from Ianto’s forehead to the base of his throat, before nuzzling into his neck and grazing his teeth across Ianto’s skin. Jack was rewarded with a spectacular moan as Ianto gripped Jack’s shoulders, thrusting him downward. But Jack refused, remaining suspended above him, his eyes penetrating Ianto’s with a feral need, their chests colliding against one another’s with every new breath.

            Ianto waited impatiently for the return of Jack’s lips against his, his eyes hungrily taking in the gorgeous curves of his torso as Jack lingered above him, when a cacophony of excited voices from the level below ripped them from their magnificent little world. Footsteps echoed across the corridors, coming ever closer, as the two men reluctantly pulled away from one another, searching the floor for forgotten bits of clothing, and carelessly shrugging their shirts over their shoulders.

            By the time that Gwen, Owen and Toshiko reached the threshold of Jack’s office, Ianto was flustered and only half-dressed, his red silk tie hanging loosely around his neck, and his lazily unbuttoned trousers dangling around his waist. Jack, meanwhile, stood there with his hands on his hips, proudly brandishing his naked chest at his colleagues.

            “Well, hello, boys,” Gwen chimed from the doorway, more amused than shocked.

            “Just came up to bring you back our leftovers. Thought you could use a bit of a break. After all, you’ve both been working so _hard_.” Owen smirked, emphasizing the last word in particular, and nudged Tosh in the ribcage. Tosh frowned and raised her eyebrows, completely at a loss for a proper reaction.

            “Weevils,” Ianto suddenly shouted, breathless and shaky, his voice cracking an octave higher than necessary. The three of them just stared at him in blank amusement.

            “Mating…no, sorry, migration habits…of…of…” Jack began, surveying his co-workers as they stood there in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, waiting for a proper explanation as to why two shattered coffee mugs lined the hardwood floor. Jack rolled his eyes and picked up his coffee-soaked shirt, frowning and wringing it out.

            “Look, I needed Ianto for a special project,” he said, swinging his button-down over his left shoulder.

            “Obviously,” Gwen murmured. “Well, come on then, let’s leave the boys to their business,” she added, slinging her arms around Owen’s and Tosh’s shoulders and leading them from the room, the three of them giggling uncontrollably as they shut the door behind them. Ianto sighed in relief as he buttoned up his trousers, tucking his coffee-stained shirt back into the hemline. He glanced toward the door every so often, watching Jack carefully as he picked up the shattered remnants of the coffee mugs and placed them back on his desk. Ianto took the pieces and motioned to leave as well, but Jack pulled him back, catching him in a kiss that made it perfectly clear that Jack had no intention of ever letting Ianto go.

            “So,” he said, “are you busy tonight? After everyone has gone home, of course.”

            Ianto shook his head, a smile slowly spreading across his face as he responded with, “You need my expertise of Weevil mating patterns to finish our conversation?”

            “Of course,” Jack said with a devilish smirk.

            “And maybe,” he added, adjusting Ianto’s tie and smoothing the creases he’d made in the soft, silken fabric, “you’d like to spend our lunch hour together from now on? Every day, around the same time? I’m thinking about installing a lock on my office door.”

            Ianto chuckled softly as Jack pressed an affectionate kiss to his lips.

            “But honestly,” he whispered, “you really are wonderful. Please don’t ever forget that.”

            Ianto smiled brilliantly, and turned to leave before the blush set in, knowing perfectly well that productivity would be impossible now that Jack would occupy his every thought until the moment they met again.


End file.
